Wednesday, September 30, 2009

I can't get over the name of one of the hotels here on the Mexican side of the border. "Hotel Conchita." I've been here 11 months so you'd think I'd get over it, but the 5th grader in me lives strong and I cannot resist.

Conchita technically means "little seashell," but everybody USES it as a nickname for the vagina. Ok, maybe not everybody in Mexico but the people in this region at least. And LOOOOKK at the color of the place! It'sPINK. Please don't make me have to explain why that's just wrong, it's pink. I just. Oh I love it. Plus, you can tell how classy it must be right next to the 7-11.

It's just like how technically the word for a female dog is "Bitch," but you'll never hear someone actually SAY that - except on those fancy dog-show-shows. "That's a beautiful bitch Harry, look how she shakes her tail."

And if your name is Richard? And you live in THIS century? Don't go by "Dick." It just doesn't work any more, I'm sorry but someone needs to say it. We are not so civilized that we can deal with it any longer - consider yourself informed. Rich, Richie, Richard, have some sense and don't dick me around.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

I woke up to an explosion this morning at 3:30 a.m. Being that this is Mexico I assumed it was a factory or gas line somewhere that blew up for the heck of it and would have just gone back to sleep thinking "Geez Mexico," but I'm knocked up and therefore had to pee for the 3rd time of the night.

When I went into the bathroom I heard a couple more explosions and some weird firework sounding noises and realized that they were coming from next door. I was pissed that the neighbors would be lighting off such gigantic fireworks at 3:30 in the a.m. I put on some clothes to go outside and give them dirty looks and wave around my pregnant belly. Surprise!! NOT fireworks. The neighbors car was engulfed in flames. I stood there and stared for a bit in disbelief, it's not every day you see a car on fire. I'm kicking my ass now for not taking a picture but damn, I was a little freaked. When I came to my senses I realized that there was nobody around, nobody else had woke up or cared to come outside so I did my neighborly duty and went to wake up my husband so HE could go tell the neighbors. Sometimes it's great being the wife.

Chino went outside and stood staring in awe for a moment before I started freaking out on him to get a move on because the car had already exploded like 3 times and I was afraid the gas tank would go like in the movies and he would get torn to bits. He woke the neighbors, they said they'd call the fire dept. and he came back to our house for me to drag him inside where he'd be safe. We stared out the window watching it explode a few more times (neato) and burn to the ground. (Yes, because if you're waiting for a big explosion it's nice and safe to hide behind GLASS.) It's AMAZING how fast a car on fire goes from CAR to RUBBLE by the way. It was pouring melting on-fire plastic to the ground, the tires blew up and the rubber burnt clean away to nothing right before our eyes.

I asked Chino if a car can just be hanging out and then all of a sudden be a raging inferno all by itself and he tried to assure me that yes, they can catch on fire sometimes. 3:30 in the a.m. is a rather ominous time for a car to decide to just up and combust as far as I'm concerned and when I first saw it it was on fire at the front of the car, in the trunk and all four tires but nothing in the interior. Why would the tires have been on fire if it was just the engine? And would it have spread to the trunk from the front of the car without going in the interior? Maybe, what do I know, I'm just a tad paranoid these days.

My neighbors seem like regular folks, working, kids, complaining about the other neighbors and I'm pretty sure it's not a drug house but who knows. Arson doesn't seem like a big pastime here anyways, normally people would just steal your car, not burn it to the ground.

We went back to bed but I was waiting for the fire truck sirens and their knock at our door to question us, that both never came. When we woke for the day an hour and a half later there was a big puddle and the flames were dead so someone must have put it out, I just don't know who. They're not much for investigating here anyways so maybe the firemen DID come?

I'm sending Chino back over there when we get home today for a little Q & A. He won't want to go but if I get huffed up and say "FINE, I'll go myself, now, how do I say. . . " After asking him how to say 3 or 4 things and giving him the I'm-a-poor-pregnant-white-girl-and-you're-making-me-go-by-myself look, he'll give in and go his damn self. :P Like I said, sometimes it's cool being the wife.

I woke up to an explosion this morning at 3:30 a.m. Being that this is Mexico I asumed it was a factory or gas line somewhere that blew up for the heck of it and would have just gone back to sleep thinking "Geez Mexico," but I'm knocked up and therefore had to pee for the 3rd time of the night. When I went into the bathroom I heard a couple more explosions and some weird firework sounding noises and realized that they were coming from next door. I was pissed that the neighbors would be lighting off such gigantic fireworks at 3:30 in the a.m. so I put on some clothes to go outside and give them dirty looks. Surprise!! NOT fireworks! The neighbors car was engulfed in flames. I stood there for a bit in disbelief, it's not every day you see a car on fire. When I came to my senses I realized that there was nobody around, nobody else had woke up or cared to come outside so I did my neighborly duty and went to wake up my husband so HE could go tell the neighbors. Sometimes it's great being the wife. Chino went outside and stood staring in awe for a moment before I started freaking out on him to get a move on because the car had already exploded like 3 times and I was afraid the gas tank would go like in the movies and he would get torn to bits. He woke the neighbors, they said they'd call the fire dept. and he came back to our house for me to drag him inside where he'd be safe. We stared out the window watching it explode a few more times (neato) and burn to the ground. It's AMAZING how fast a car on fire goes from CAR to RUBBLE. It was pouring melting on-fire plastic to the ground, the tires blew up and the rubber burnt clean away to nothing right before our eyes. I asked Chino if a car can just be hanging out and then all of a sudden be a raging inferno all by itself and he tried to assure me that yes, they can catch on fire sometimes. 3:30 in the a.m. is a rather ominous time for a car to decide to just up and combust as far as I'm concerned and when I first saw it it was on fire at the front of the car, in the trunk and all four tires but nothing in the interior. Why would the tires have been on fire if it was just the engine? And would it have spread to the trunk from the front of the car without going in the interior? Maybe, what do I know, I'm just a tad paranoid these days. My neighbors seem like regular folks, working, kids, complaining about the other neighbors and I'm pretty sure it's not a drug house but who knows. Arson doesn't seem like a big pastime here anyways, normaly people would just steal your car, not burn it to the ground. We went back to bed but I was waiting for the firemens sirens and their knock at our door to question us, that both never came. When we woke for the day an hour and a half later there was a big puddle and the flames were dead so someone must have put it out, I just don't know who. They're not much for investigating here anyways so maybe the firemen DID come? I'm sending Chino back over there when we get home today for a little Q & A. He won't want to go but if I get huffed up and say "FINE, I'll go myself, now, how do I say. . . " After asking him how to say 3 or 4 things and giving him the I'm-a-poor-pregnant-white-girl-and-you're-making-me-go-by-myself look, he'll give in and go his damn self. :P Like I said, sometimes it's cool being the wife.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

One of the new D sized bras I bought in celebration of moving up the boob alphabet another step away from my sad little B (thank you pregnancy) is one of these wide-straped-lot's-o-support-comfy-deals that's made in chartreuse and with lace to try and keep it pretty looking. This is the kind of bra that I used to put on my head in Walmart and say to my gal pal Jaime "My GOD I can wear it as a hat! It's huge! LOOK!! Look at it on my head!!" She would run away from me in embarrassed horror, I would laugh and fun was had by all.

And damn it now I'm wearing one.

This thing is monstrous and I feel so supported and tied down and strapped in I'm pretty sure you could hook the back of it to a crane and fly me around like tinkerbell in all of my pink laced glory.

What's going to happen to me in another 2 1/2 months as these bitches continue to grow? Am I going to have to buy playtex 18 hour bras? I don't want to do that, somebody tell me I don't have to because those things come in a BOX and you can't even SEE them or try them on before you buy them. What's the deal do they have leprosy? I don't want a lepor bra. Why can't I at least touch it before I buy it?

Saturday, September 26, 2009

I'm pretty sure we don't have these back home. On corners all over the city here they put up drive-thru beer stores. They put them on the street corners so you can zip in (purchase beer) and then zip out - either onto another street thus making a nice rounded turn without annoying things like stop lights -or- back on to the original street by way off jaunting across any perpendicular traffic that might be in your way.

Did I mention these are BEER stores?

DRIVE THRU BEER stores?

Here in Mexico you can also send your child - any age - to go and buy beer, and nobody askes questions. That blows my mind! A kid or teenager can go to the liquor store and get what ever they want. But maybe it works? In Chino's family they don't really drink, maybe someone will bring a 6-pack to share (with like 20 people) and they'll make these funky beer-bloody-mary things with it, but nobody's interested in getting drunk. And the younger family members in their early 20's? They don't drink at all! I figured that his single male cousins would be drinkers but hell, they've got other things to pay for and beer just isn't on the list. Maybe his family isn't the norm - I sure as hell don't know everyone here - but at least I'm happy.

Daaaiiiissyyy!! OH DAISY FETUS! After you're born and you can crawl, mommy's sending YOU for Margaritas! :P

Friday, September 25, 2009

I'm pretty sure we don't have these back home. On corners all over the city here they put up drive-thru beer stores. They put them on the street corners so you can zip in (purchase beer) and then zip out - either onto another street thus making a nice rounded turn without annoying things like stop lights -or- back on to the original street by way off jaunting across any perpendicular traffic that might be in your way.

Did I mention that these are BEER stores?DRIVE THRU beer stores?

Here in Mexico if you're drinking at home you can send your kid walking to the store to buy beer for you and nobody asks questions. Booze cruising? They've got you covered!

That's it, it's settled, I'm either disturbed or a pervert. Yesterday morning in hotel-scary I was standing at the front desk minding my own business when a priest walked in the door. A real priest in the black outfit with the white collar and everything. I've never seen one in real life, only in movies, so when I reacted the way I did it was kind of a surprise. He smiled at me - just one nice warm priest smile - and I melted right there on the spot thinking in my head "Hey Hey Haaayyyyyyyy! WHOOOO Lawwdy what a sexy man!" "MMMm mamma likes a man in a suit!" "Hey Priest! Chh Chhh SSssssss Preist! Priest! Over here!" "Where's my fan? I need a fan." "Sexy Muthah. . . " Aaaaand STOP. WOW! I never knew that Clergy could send me over the perv deep end, but here we are. A group of previous grouchy-hateful-mean-old-ladies that gave me dirty looks and acted like I was going to steal their purses that morning when I brought them more coffee ran up to the priest miraculously transformed. All of a sudden they were glowing, smiling and fawning old ladies instead of beotches. I can't blame 'em of course, and who knows, maybe they could sense my oncoming priest perversion and that's why they were so rude to me. He was only there for a few moments before taking the ladies off in a church van but those moments were enough to convince me to stay being a Protestant. Cuz damn, priests have enough trouble these days with kids, they don't need some crazy gringa comin' after 'em too. Lawwwwsi Mercy. Hallelujah!

Thursday, September 24, 2009

I added a link today to the blog I'm going to do for my baby Daisy. I wanted a place to keep it all separate and post up and obscene amount of prego-photo's for my family. I need a place so my little brother and parents can come and see what's going on with the gigantic belly and at the same time not drive my regular readers insane with baby stuff. I wanted to tell you guys here to not feel obligated to go to the other, I won't be swearing so much over there and if you don't know me that well it might bore you to death and blah blah blah I just want you to know I don't expect you to go to both.

Last night (did you do it? did you say it 5 times as fast as you can? I totally just did it - anyways, ok) while I was waiting to go pick up Chino from work I was sitting on the couch dinking around with my blog and I noticed that all of a sudden it turned dark outside. I peeked my head out the door expecting rain but was surprised by a dust storm! A REAL one! Coooool. We don't have those where I come from so I thought it was neato. I went outside to take a picture though and got sand blasted in my eyes and it actually hurt the bare skin of my legs! Who knew?

It started to rain so I came back in the house to get a poncho so I could go out and bring all of my plants in out of the rain. I'd leave them out but they would all wash away when it starts to flood. Coming out of the extra room with my poncho, our front door slowly started to open up all on it's own. I was alone and immediately freaked out and assumed someone had come to "get" me.

In the split second before I realized that it was just the wind - because I didn't latch the door all the way - I went into some sort of crazy survival mode and decided that I would kill whoever was coming after me - with the poncho.

Honest to god I thought in my head "I'll wound 'em with the poncho." It was still in it's plastic bag and the edge was plasticy-sharp. Kinda. Not really. Two images flashed through my head, beating the man with the poncho - and after realizing that wouldn't work - slashing at his throat with the poncho. I even went so far as to test the heft of the package and do a practice mini-swing to get the feel of it. A PONCHO!

*Kramer crazy freak out exasperated dance*

Gaahhhh. After my split second of 15 different thoughts I finaly realized that duh, it was just the wind blowing in the door.

"Oh." . . . "Sorry Poncho, not today."

Ah well, at least I know that in a bind I can be a helluva bad-ass - or at least convince myself that I am. And maybe it would be a good idea to wear the Mace my step-mom talked me into buying - around my neck. That way I can spray down the door if it scares me again. That'll teach it.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

This morning at work when I usually post my daily post (except Sunday) I was rudely interrupted by the fact that my boss sent a new employee for me to train. I had to put my laptop away and teach her stuff and throughout the ENTIRE day I flipped out again and again because I didn't post on my blog.

Halfway through the day I had a talk with myself reassuring myself that it would be O.K. that I wouldn't be deserted over one day gone during the week and to CALM THE HELL DOWN. I read bloggers that only post once every week or two weeks and I don't forget about them.

And yet? I drove home debating whether I should post my original post or save it for tomorrow. Maybe do a mini post, just a little somethin' ? Wordless Wednesday? A Joke? MY GOD SOMETHING!!

I got home and honest to God here on the couch I sat for 15 minutes staring at my computer screen trying to figure out what to do.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Hotel workers are not discreet. I think we're supposed to be, at least that's what I always assumed, but there was never any training on it and we sure as hell don't practice it. Case in point:Dear really old dude who FORGOT his triangle-sex-position-pillow in his room and came back for it two days later. Thank You. We had a lot of fun making fun of the sex pillow back in the laundry room (it got some great conversations started) and when you came to claim it and we saw that you were old? Dude, you're famous.

If you're going to come in drunk at 2a.m. and proceed to have wild, monkey sex so loud that we can hear you on the second floor (it happens) the night worker is going to tell everyone the next morning the whole story and your room number so we can gawk at you. If you're a super slutty girl walking out of here at 7:30 a.m. in 4 inch heels and your clubbing dress the housekeepers and I will be tittering silently from behind the you-can't-see-us screen. We're not malicious or mean spirited but come on, it's the walk of shame and we're bored.

If you are a guest that stays often and you do any of the following -

*leave a ton of dirty condoms flung around the room*come with a different "friend" each time*leave the room with an odd rank smell*leave drug paraphernalia*are a super slob*are an asshole*are a bitch

You will be immediately MARKED and forever remembered by all that work here.

"Oh God that man-whore is coming in today, you know, the one that smells like curry all the time?"

"Hey the asshole from that drilling company is coming, you know the one that leaves water in the bath tub and throws his towels in it? Give him #113 the drain stopper is broke in that room and it won't hold water."

"OOooo that BEEOTCH business chick is coming - give her room 103, the phone doesn't work in that room.""OH shit! It's STD guy, the one that left behind the crab-cream, tell the housekeepers to bring tongs for all the condoms he leaves behind and burn their uniforms when they get home."

And so on. We remember everything and if you're an asshole we'll try our best to fuck with you further. You want to throw a gigantic hissy fit and yell at the pregnant lady behind the counter because there is no coffee in your room? We'll never have coffee for you again - CHECK MARK goes next to your name and from now on it'll be "Oh I'm sorry sir, we've run out." Forever.

One more thing about assholes -

Dear Sir who comes in and insists on paying cash because "I don't want a paper trail." And says to me"I don't want to give you my e-mail address in case they're going to send me advertisements, I don't want a paper trail." "I'm going to give you my office address, are you SURE you won't send any "Thank You For Staying" letters? I don't want a paper trail" "I'm going to give you my office number, I don't want any phone calls home."OK ASSHOLE I GET IT, now wipe that smug smile off your face because you forget that I scanned your drivers license (with your real address) and maybe you didn't REALIZE that I saw you sneak that tramp in the side door. I'll be sending off a copy of your receipt to your home address post haste - don't be a cheating bastard. (Addressed to "Last Name Only" I wonder who gets the mail at home?)

If you're nice to me? Different story. If you treat me like a human being I will ALSO remember and I'll bend over backwards to be nice right-back-to-ya. I'll let you check in early without charging you, and if we need to do a room-change somewhere in the hotel I will search you out to give you an upgrade. I've even upgraded people because they didn't bitch and complain and bargain and fuck with me for 20 minutes over the NORMAL room fee. "Oh hey you know what? We're out of standard rooms, how about I put you in a suite for the same price?" I surprised one lady coming for her anniversary by giving her a jacuzzi room just because she was SO DAMN SWEET and nice and genuine on the phone. (my boss would roll over dead if knew I did any of these upgrades but he's an asshole so I don't care!)

Monday, September 21, 2009

Can anyone take a man wearing shorts seriously? This morning at the border crossing one of the agents - these super-serious-I'll-take-your-head-off-for-sneezing men - was wearing his govt. issue and approved shorts. From the knees up it's the standard black uniform with gun, flashlight and 20 other things strapped on around his belt with the serious shirt and badge and everything. But somebody cut his pants off from the knees down and I could clearly see his CHICKEN legs and the hairiness of them and how they led down into his govt. issue black socks and black shoes.

Flattering, really.

There's something about seeing his legs out in the open that makes me think vulnerable and . . . "Hahahahaha he's got chicken legs!" He doesn't scare me the way he should. Put on some pants man.

The men here in Mexico don't wear shorts like the men of the U.S. it's not La Moda (the fashion.) It's not seen as respected and I can glimpse why. At first I thought it was weird to see every man on the street in 105 degree weather wearing heavy pants, but you get used to it. My husbands the same way, I couldn't drag him outside in shorts for all the tortillas in Mexico. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with men in shorts but for me they always look like little boys. That is of course unless you're the Magnum P.I. sort of man, and then you just look like a pervert. Sorry, but Magnum was the last man to look good in shorts. My dad wears Magnum P.I. daisy duke cut-off jean shorts - the kind where the pocket hangs out the bottom and if he didn't wear undies his balls would fall out. But my dads an old nekkid hippie and lives out in the country and stays out of public that way. And I love him, so he's ok. :P The rest of you? I'm not going to take you seriously. It'd be like taking a lady cop in a tube top serious, just not gonna happen.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Here in Mexico road construction (or lack there of) can be a wild dangerous thing to drive up upon on the roadways. There's no miles of orange barrels and cones and cement dividers here to herd traffic away from danger, no flashing signs.

My first experience with construction here was to drive up and see a half 50 gallon barrel with a fire inside and 3 orange cones herding me into oncoming traffic at the bottom of a hill. I drove into the oncoming traffic only to realize that they, coming down the hill, had NO warning that the opposite side of the road was being herded toward them. Much honking and "holy shitting" later I made it through back to my side of the road (at the top of the hill) and went on my way. That's how it works here, half the time you fend for yourself.If a giant slab of road is gone or being dug up they will put up one small sign a foot from the edge and you had better be paying attention and get over - or you're going in. One small orange cone in the road might mean that an entire bridge is out, you just never know. Over time I've learned to drive many times more aware than I ever thought of in the U.S.

The pictures on my blog today are all in front of my own house. The grate that's bent and falling in over a huge drain has been this way for about 6 months and we just last week got our very own sign. The sign points AWAY from all traffic, but hey at least it's a large object that will keep people from running over the grate. Last weekend the sign got knocked over somehow and had fallen in the drain itself, but Chino and I fished it out and put it back.

:PP When our new neighbors moved in there was no sign and they hadn't got the hole memorized yet and backed into it one morning. Luckily they were driving a huge truck and with some doing they managed to get it out without damage. My little car? Eeeesh, that would be a different story.What scares me the most about the bad grate isn't cars driving in, but people walking by in the dark or heaven forbid someone walking right into it when it rains and floods here! When the water covers the road here for 2 days at a time there is no way to tell that a giant gaping hole is waiting to swallow someone up. The water drainage is so slow that there's no whirlpool to give warning.The next picture is up the road from us and shows a little car that didn't see that the manhole there is open and has no cover. Whenever it floods people come along and flip the manhole covers up on their sides in the hole so the water can drain faster. People will drive through the flood waters so at least with the covers on their sides they can see that the holes are uncovered. The problem is that a couple of months ago after a flood the manhole covers dissapeared and never returned.

If you look to the right in the picture you can see a tire jammed into one of the open holes - the neighbors put it in there, I thought that was nice of them, but the other hole is always open. I've wondered for a while what would happen if I forgot about the open hole, and now I guess I know. Bummer.

Maybe this is all part of the reason why Mexicans drive so slow in the U.S. ? It's the big joke that if you see someone in the fastlane backing up traffic for going so slow that it'll be a Mexican, but hell it looks like they've got their reasons.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Back home in Michigan I always hated walking or driving past a group of migrant workers. No matter the time of day it seems they would whistle, cat-call or make any assortment of bird calls and just NOISE to get your attention. I'm not a crazy blond bomb shell so I figured that they were a couple thousand miles away from home and wives and girlfriends and they were just horny bastards.

Perhaps not.

Here in Mexico I doubt I've made it one day without being "harassed" by men on the street. I don't want to say harassed because it's so commonplace here and they don't say bad things, but for lack of better word, that's what I'm going with.

Whether I'm driving my car down the street, parked someplace or just walking, I'm bombarded by all sorts of noise to get me to avert my attention. Whistles are common but more often, Mexican men have this certain "CHH CHH CHH" or "SHHH SHHH SHHH" noise that they make with their mouth. Sometimes they'll just hiss and other times they'll actually yell out "WERA!!" (light skinned girl!) Or just "EH!"

If I'm at a stoplight and they've got time it goes something like this "EH! Eh! CSHHH CSHHH EH! SSSSSSS WERA!" "WERAAAA!"

Every day.

These days I ignore them and refuse to look in their direction but at the beginning they startled me and I'd look. :P When I turn to look at them they never really say much, just Ogle or wave or smile like a crazy person. I don't get it. I went through an angry period a few months ago where I informed my husband that I am not a DOG and do not appreciate being called to like one and would be giving them "the hand" or even perhaps "the finger" from then on. That didn't last and I never threw out any gestures, I'd end up feeling like a real jerk and I know it.

One night Chino and I were sitting out on our patio watching the street when a lady and her child walked by the house. My dog started to bark at her so I started "SHHH'shing her" (the dog) and my husband told ME to quit it because the lady would think that I was calling to her. "Say wha???" was my response because HOW COULD SHE NOT KNOW that I was Shushing the dog!? But he's right, it's that big of a THING here. Now days I don't know how to tell my dog to shut up, that whole "no" thing doesn't work for her.

I wish I understood this whole thing or where it comes from and why it's OK here, but it as of yet alludes me. Do you think it's stopped now that I'm a gigantic pregnant lady? You might want to think again if you do.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

I snapped this picture in the morning while in line to get across the border. This dude has two stickers on the back of his SUV - one supporting deer hunting, and the other? The other sticker is in reference to the "Patron Saint of Drug Dealers" that people here have dedicated to protect them against law enforcement. Honest to goodness no joke they really did make a saint for just that, to protect drug dealers from the law. I can't make this shit up.

Anyhow I see people all over down here with those type of stickers on the back of their vehicles and I try my best not to cut them off in traffic or flip them off if they cut ME off.

I never expected to see a drug dealer that's also an avid deer hunter. For some reason it just doesn't go together for me. I come from a family of avid hunters and have stalked through the woods, gun in hand, looking for Bambi myself quite a few times. The image of "deer hunter" and scary-ass-cartel-drug-dealer just don't seem to go together in my head. If it was a Budweiser sticker accompanying the deer it would all make sense, but no.

Ah well, I guess we come in all types? I've seen the gay-rainbow stickers next to BUSH stickers so it's not that far of a stretch. People are crazy.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

I snapped this pic on the way home last night - it's of a poster for the 16 of September celebration. (Mexican 4th of July) Notice the words in bold "Tequila Todo La Noche!!" That translates to "Tequila all night long."

EEESH. I can't for the life of me figure out how that's going to turn out good for ANYBODY.

Cuz damn. Just. No.

I can remember exactly the last time I drank Tequila. *shudder* It was about two years ago and Chino when I decided that we would see what it would be like to get drunk together. I can't remember WHY this seemed like such a good idea at the time. Anyways we didn't want to be driving so we took a trip to the local ghetto liquor store. Ahhh memories, my first ghetto liquor store. . . *sigh* :P

Chino was all hyped up and convinced that we just HAD to drink Tequila even though all I had ever seen him drink was beer. I tried to convince him otherwise but he got all chest-puffed-up and Mexican-y -proud on me and informed me that this was the ONLY way to do it. I didn't want Mexican-Pride flags to burst from his ears so I just gave in.

We brought a 5th of Tequila home (really? because a pint wouldn't have done just fine??GAAWWD,) sat down at my kitchen table and proceeded to drink all but a couple fingers in the bottom of the bottle in about 45 minutes. And we don't drink! Which is probably why we drank so much so fast because we didn't really know any better.

After we finished I don't really remember much. I think (?) he might have sang some Mexican songs and I know we were PLANNING on having drunk-sex but it all goes really fuzzy and I'm pretty sure one of us went to pray to the toilet gods. I don't know if it was me or him or both? AND I don't remember the next day until late afternoon when I woke up and saw the offending Tequila bottle smirking at me from the kitchen table - and thinking to myself "OH MY GAWD it's almost ALL GONE!!"

Tequila isn't good for 45 minutes and if those people go "TODO LA NOCHE!" I think we're in for some problems. Cuz damn.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Because Clowns are ger-crapping CREEEEPY. I can't STAND clowns, they freak me out and give me the icky chills. WHY am I such a weirdo? You can't really see their face, it's all painted up to look like they're smiling all the time but maybe they're not -and I need to see a persons face to be able to read them and feel safe with them. I can't even stand people who talk to me while wearing sunglasses - I HATE that - because I can't make eye contact and I can't read their eyes and tell what's really going on behind what they are saying. I don't care if it's sunny out, take your damn glasses off and LOOK at me asshole.

I don't have a clown phobia or anything spectacular like that, I just really reeeeaaaaly don't like them and avoid them as much as possible. Avoiding clowns was simple back home, it's not like they just walked down the street or lived next door, but here in Mexico it's different. The freaking bastards are everywhere. GAHHH.

They preform daily in busy intersections honking their nose and juggling and then coming to your car to shake you down for some pesos before your light turns green. (this is the same intersection as the fire-breather post from last week, it must be lucrative) These guys are extra scary because their make up and clothes are all home-done and a tad dirty from standing in traffic day in and day out and I KNOW they're not smiling and happy beneath the paint because it's 100 degrees out and they're juggling in the sun. My doors are already locked when I drive but for these guys the window goes up.

THE CREEPIEST experience with clowns here (gaaaahhhh I don't even want to talk about it) was when Chino and I were downtown walking around one day and we came across a clown show in the plaza. There were a lot of people standing around watching him do his thing and he didn't look horribly scary and he seemed nice enough to the children so we stopped to watch for a little bit. (far in the back though, thank you) After we had stood watching for a bit we were suddenly interrupted by a shake-down-clown that came out of nowhere.

All of a sudden this guy was in my face and I didn't even understand what was going on! All I knew was that there was a dirty scary looking clown 1.5 feet from me and he was nasty and his clothes were old and his makeup was all blue and dirty white and it wasn't painted with care - it was painted kinda scary almost - and he looked drunk and was for some reason fixated on me. The horror, I was frozen so thank God for my husband. Chino knew that he was the shake-down-clown and that we had to give up a couple pesos for him to go away. He took the pesos and hung around a minute I swear just to intimidate me - or probably because I was a white girl staring at him like stammering idiot - we'll never know which.

SUPER CREEEEEEEEEEPP !! GAaaaahhhhh never again!

Besides the intersections and parks the damn things seem to be all over the place here. You'll see them walking down the street or even in the grocery store shopping for eggs just like the rest of us. I guess yeah, I stop at the store on my way home from work too, but if I were a stripper I'd put some clothes on and if I were a damn clown I'd at least wipe my face off.

I dressed up as a clown for like 4 Halloweens in a row during my adulthood and I actually loved it. At first it was a face your fears thing but then I realized that the outfit and big shoes were just really damn comfy. But it didn't change a thing, when I volunteered at church for the kids Halloween thing there was another clown there - a lady I knew well - and SHE still managed to freak me out. Gah, I HATE not being able to read someones face and that's THAT. I guess along with mace I should carry Noxema wipes - just in case.

Chino's family has been wonderfully accepting of me since we announced "oh by the way, we're married" and quite lovely to me since I have moved down here to Mexico. They treat me just like anybody else in the family with joking around silliness and they try their best to include me and talk to me when we are over visiting. Nothing ever bothered me about their attitude toward me till we became pregnant and the subject of buying baby things came up.

Little did I know but they assumed that since I'm white or American or something, that I would be wanting only brand new things for my baby. They thought I'd want everything from expensive stores or something, and my husband said they were having a hard time trying to figure out what to do for me because they assumed I would be so picky. Oh lordy they don't know me at all!

Chino and I haven't bought one thing new for the baby and we're just about done shopping. I'm so proud :P I went to crazy lengths to make sure everything is SAFE and up to code and has all of it's parts - there's no use being cheap if it's going to harm your baby - and we've saved a ton of cash.

Ect. You get it. The only thing I need now is one of those diaper genies and the medicines, bath-stuff, lotions and potions that babies need. I'm gonna buy all the lotions, potions, bath stuff and medicines new - I'm not crazy.

So see!?? I'm not a spoiled American brat, I'm pretty damn thrifty! Chino and I looked at a ton of different baby baths over a period of about 3 weeks before I found one that was nice enough AND cheap enough. I wasn't willing to pay over $4.00 !

Chino tried to tell them that we've not bought anything new but they can't seem to except it. I don't know what it is about me being a Gringa in this situation but they're being hard headed and I don't get it, and I don't deserve this. . . scrutiny or . . judgment? I don't know. I think it's making it harder for them because another girl in the family is also having her first baby (a month ahead of me) - but she's from HERE. Perhaps when they come to the house to see the baby's room they'll get it?Ah well, my wallet is happy and that's something. They're still a great family, they just don't understand where I come from.

Friday, September 11, 2009

I saw George Lopez on the teli the other day and he was making some jokes about bologna. It went along the lines of this - "We ate bologna when we were kids, but not the rich people bologna, no we had poor people bologna - the kind with the red string!" My apologies to G. Lopez, it was a funny bit, but it looks stupid typed out. Anyways. What I want to know is where the hell is this fabled bologna with NO red string? I've never seen it without red string - I happen to LIKE my red string bologna.

My mom bought it for us when I was a kid - Garlic Bologna - from the deli counter and everything. I always thought the deli counter was where you got the GOOD stuff because it came in giant loaves and they actually sliced it to order for you and Oscar Myer didn't make it. It wasn't till I worked at the deli counter that I realized they also sold head cheese and chopped ham. *Goooohuhhuh* *shiver.*

To this day I am STILL buying red-string baloney damn it! I was worried they wouldn't have it in Mexico but HA I guess if it's poor people food we would have it here - and they do. I like peeling the string off my baloney, I always thought it was fun when I was a kid and I LIKE the taste of my poor people baloney. Bastards. What. Ever. Bread, miracle whip, mustard, lettuce and a slice of Baloney and it's yummy damn it. Of course that's the fancy version - the regular version was what my parents called a "Slap Sandwich," where you slap a piece of meat between two pieces of dry bread and call it good.

Do they have Baloney in Croatia?

I got to thinking about it and I only like crappy chocolate too.

I worked one summer on Mackinac Island in an ice cream and fudge shop and I'll never forget one of the customers I served. She was an older lady and was browsing around our shop. She approached the counter and asked me if our chocolate covered nuts were made with "premium" chocolate. All I knew was that they cost like $12.00 a pound and since I thought that was an insane price I assured her that indeed it was super duper. She put her head close to the glass and STARED at it before asking me for a sample. I gave her a piece of chocolate covered macadamia nut, she put it in her mouth and made a twisty-upy-face and started shaking her head like I gave her a rotten piece. She held up her finger and waved it at me saying "No, this is not premium. I'm talking about chocolate like GODIVA. This is not Godiva" I just stood there with a blank stare feeling lame and she said "It's ok dear, you'll understand someday." And she walked out of the shop. This was 11 years ago but I can still SEE her in my head, and the look of pity she gave me.

Whatever lady. That encounter bothered me for years and I can't count how many times I've popped into a gourmet chocolate shop to buy a piece or two of premium chocolate to see if I might like it. And? I hate it all! AAAHHHH!! It took me a while but I finally found a GODIVA shop where I purchased some of my favorites (toffee!) to see just what I had been mission out on all these years. AND yuck. The Godiva toffee tasted nothing like my Hershey's Heath and I was pretty damn disappointed. All of the premium chocolate I've tried seems too. . . crispy or hard or not MILK chocolate enough for me. I like milky melty chocolate damn it, screw you premium. For heavens sake I don't even like the DOVE chocolate because it's just weird and waxy and not gritty enough for me. I'm hopeless.

ONE thing, at least I don't like the shitty holiday chocolate that comes in a giant bag for like $2.00. That stuff has enough wax to build a bee hive and I'm proud to say I won't eat it. (Unless someone gives me a piece and then I wouldn't want to be rude.)

I don't like lobster or even crab. Premium potato chips? I'll take Ruffles thank you. Spinach and Artichoke dip? Gahhh, good god where's the bean dip??? I don't like cake anywhere but from home - and damn it I like it to come out of a box. My step mom made a yellow box cake when I was home last and she said "I know it's not the wonderful homemade scratch cake like other people make. . ." She said this after I had HAPPILY eaten half of my piece thinking to myself "Damn this is good cake." Stepmom if you're out there I like your cake better than that other lady's any day.

I am not refined Internets. I'm pretty sure it's official. But I'm happy! I LIKE my regular people/poor people food though, and I think that counts. Plus being that I'm cheap, I this sort of works out good for me. Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to go and make a tomato, mayo and lettuce sandwich.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Yes, yes it sure as shit does. And if it rains for more than 15 minutes? It floods. Drainage here is a tad slow so after about 25 minutes the whole city is up to it's knees in God-knows-what water. Give it a half hour and things go back down - unless, UNLESS you happen to live in one of the areas where all of that water goes back down TO. Like our house.

When you're prospecting a house to rent in Mx you must MUST do it while it's raining, because no matter how many times you ask the owner or what you make him swear on, he will NOT tell you the truth about the flood situation at his property. "OH Noooooo just a leetle beeet, like everywhere ales." Fucker. We even asked the neighbors but the whole "proud" factor of Mexico won't let them tell you that they live someplace retarded.

I took the first pic. from where I had to park today to be able to walk to our house. Our house is waaaaaayy down at the end of the street, at the bottom of the slowly sloped street where it's about knee deep in this pic. Imagine our surprise the first time it rained.

The next two I took from my front steps - front steps that were under water earlier in the day - you might notice the gate (part of the gate is crooked because the water washed one of my plants in it's planter halfway underneath and is holding it askew), it's a lovely view. The first pic is strait out and the second is to the right to the other adjoining street that I normally get to my house on. It's a tad wet right now and I don't think my car has boat-mode so I went the back way.

Mexico is a pretty stupid country. Hate me if you want but it just IS. This is from 25 minutes of rain! Back home sometimes it rains for 3 days strait and we don't flood. If it rained for 3 HOURS here the water would flood the inside of our house as well as the outside, along with the homes of the 500,000 other people (literally) that live in this city. WHY are they so RETARDED here? GAH, I just don't get it.

Luckily I had emergency trash bags in my car for just this occasion. If you put one trash bag on each leg you can walk through water up to your crotch without getting wet. Unless said bastard trash bags have holes in them. (bastards) :P

Bright side of all this? Our rent is cheaper here, and for a cheap soul like myself it makes up for a multitude of sin. If it doesn't rain anymore the water will be down far enough in the morning for me to walk back to my car on a dry sidewalk and the water in the streets will be gone by the time I get home from work. In another day when the mud dries up in the street Chino will have to scrape, shovel and sweep it all up, and we'll go on just fine. We'll make do.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

How do you cook like Paula Dean? Just get phreaky with butter. Or in this case? Bacon Greese. :P Let me explain myself, and in doing so, purge myself of my secret.

Monday night I was cooking dinner for Chino and I - BLT's with egg (BELT's,) with a side dish of mashed potatoes. Why the hell was I cooking mashed potatoes to go with BELT's? Cuz I'm pregnant and I can. Ok and I've been having a 3 week affair with mashed potatoes, I just can't get enough. Chino told me that in Mexico they have a saying about how eating potatoes gives you a ghetto booty. Well THERE'S the explanation for my extreme booty! Who knew.

ANYWAYS. I was finished cooking the bacon and was planning on using the left over grease to fry the eggs - God love bacon grease, if you've never cooked your eggs in bacon grease you need to - today, and I realized I had way too much. I didn't want to dump it down the sink - for some reason that's bad I guess, hell, I don't know how sinks work, that's just what they say. SO. I saw my potatoes boiling and thought "Hmmmmm potatoes go good with bacon, I wonder if the grease would flavor the water??" I dumped the grease in the boiling potatoes. I did. Secrets out. Shame, shame on my Paula Dean Ghetto Booty Ass.

(ok so shame for cooking eggs in grease and boiling the potatoes instead of steaming but just never you mind)

It took me two days of eating the potatoes and thinking "Damn these taste good. I swear they taste smokey. . almost bacon-y. Huh" (duhhhhhhhhh) before I remembered what I had done. The bacon grease made them taste freaking awesome and as much as I hope I don't, I just might do it again some day. Shame. Shaaaaaame.

*Sigh* Thank You internets, I feel better for having confessed. And btw? If you have any horrible food secrets like this, feel free to share - I don't judge. :P So share. Cuz I love Paula Dean. Gracias.

I can finaly start doing posts about Mexico - I got a new Digital camera! Ohhh praise be. I snapped a few driving home yesterday to show a girl I've been corresponding with that it's indeed not the wild west with dirt roads here. She's just like I used to be and is thinking that it's still horses & buggies here. Of course there ARE horses & buggies here, but they're just the trash collectors and they have no problem trotting down the highway next to semis. Those are some bad-ass horses.

Anyways, this guy to the right was hanging out in an intersection doing tricks for pesos yesterday. There's always somebody in this intersection, a clown juggling or the boys on stilts or like today, the fire breather. I have no idea what he uses for his gas but he drinks it out of an old dirty sprite bottle. I can't imagine this is good on his mouth skin after a couple of days. Eeeesh.

The next couple are driving pictures - pretty lame but I was in a hurry - but you can see that we have things like Midas and 7-11, just like civilized countries. It looks just like anywhere else here on the main drag, I'll start taking the side streets to show you guys the cool shit.

And here you can see (if you click the pic it will grow) that we DO in fact have McDonalds. Thank GAWD, what would the world be with out french fries? Actually Chino and I go to Burger King when we want something like that, he's a total McDonalds hater and he sux because I love their french fries. Don't order papas fritas at a regular restaurant here, they will come out all weird and only half way cooked and totally limp. I think they boil them instead of fry them here and while Chino likes them, they scare me and piss me off. French Fries should be crispy Mexico - get it right.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Don't freak out I'm not going to start advertising baby shit. I would kick my own ass for that. No, just read the top line - "The Diapers Designed to Keep Baby Moving."WTF? I don't know anything about babies or diapers but damn has Huggies gone a tad Sadistic or what? I mean I've heard of parents wanting to keep babies awake during the day so they'll sleep at night but sheesh. What, do they have like a baby-cattle-prod in the butt or something?This whole new mom thing brings it's surprises.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

*Thank You again for all the comments on the first blog about weird pregnancy symptoms, they mean a lot! I wasn't finished before and I'm back with the rest, if you know a first time prego I encourage you to share what ever you can with her, stick together yall. If you're sadistic then just e-mail her these posts (including the comments, that's where the GOOD shit is!) that'll give her a jumpstart. :P*

Anyways.

Food Aversions. I had always heard of food CRAVINGS and I thought it was going to be the most fun part of pregnancy. :P There's only been one time during the pregnancy where I had a craving and it DID crack me up. I was walking around Dollar General for miscellaneous crap and spotted cans of sardines. I decided right then and there I COULD NOT leave the store with out at least 3 cans of mustard sardines and I thought I would surely eat them all upon arriving home. When I walked over to the frozen section and saw the Gordons Fishsticks my brain said SCREW the sardines "YOU WILL NOT SURVIVE unless you eat a box of fishsticks!!!" I went strait home with my fishy fishes but by the time I got there the cravings were gone. I should have eaten the sardines right there in the store, I have an idea it would have been the best food I'd ever eaten. Ah well, Chino had a white people favorite that night of "sticks and stones" (fish sticks and tater tots.)

The AVERSIONS though. Holy CRAP!! My Mom had told me that the smell of fried eggs drove her bat shit when she was pregnant with me but I had NO IDEA just how so until I was knocked up myself. Plus I didn't have a CLUE that I could develop aversions to half of the food in the world. I expected one or two things. Ha, hahah, bwwaaaaaaaaaaahahah. Right! Chicken, my favorite of favorites all of a sudden turned into an evil alien smelling creepy food that I will NOT touch. I've had to go in the other room while Chino eats because of the smell (and I'm not a dramatic type person! this is so NOT for attention) and once on the way home from Walmart I bought one of those rotisserie chickens (god I used to love those!) and actually put it in the trunk of the car to avoid the smell on the way home. The trunk didn't help all that much, I could still smell it and was sick by the time I got home. Girls - THIS is pregnancy! Soon after chicken turned into something monstrous all other meats shortly followed suit. I remember sitting down to dinner with Chino one night, taking a bite of my favorite beef-taquito dish, putting my fork down and thinking "Huh. I don't for the life of me want another bit of that beef." It's not like it smelled bad but there was this THING in my brain somewhere that threat end to turn my stomach inside out if I ate one more bite of the suddenly EVIL food on my plate. Chicken, Pork, Beef, Fish (goodbye fishsticks!) and then on to stranger things like avacado, pico de gallo and to the horror of women everywhere - CHOCOLATE. Even beans and eggs dropped off my eatable list and I was left with nothing but fruit and bread for a couple of months. I got all freaked out worried about the fact that I was eating like, no protein or iron so I started drinking Slim Fast along with my fruity lunches and dinners. :P People look at you funny when you're pregnant and drinking Slim Fast. Six months in I can eat certain meats again if they're prepared the right way and don't look to . . . meaty. But Chicken? These days I hold a secret theory that there's something WRONG with chicken and maybe it's not such a good thing for people to eat after all. Chickens are aliens, and their meat holds a creepy evil place in my heart and I'm not sure I'll ever want to eat it again. THAT is pregnancy, pregnancy is freakin weird. I've got more but after writing about chicken, I'm done for the day. Yeeeeaaallck.

Chinos Brother and Nephew were kidnapped by a drug cartel. His brother was kidnapped two weeks ago and the nephew 8 days ago and the family just now told us because they were too afraid to say something because I'm pregnant and they think I'm delicate. I'm fine but I can't for the life of me imagine what it's like for Chino and his Dad and his Brother and Nephew.

The most insane part about this whole thing is that Chinos family lives in Texas, they were kidnapped in Texas.

Chino and I have told each other and my family that nothing will happen to us as long as we keep our noses clean and stay away from anything drug related. We figure they won't mess with us if we don't have anything to DO with them and their stuff. Chinos brother and Nephew don't do drugs though and they surely don't have anything to do with them - BUT - another brother lent his car to his brother in-law who said he was going to use it to take his kids to the doctor and ended up stealing drugs from a cartel with it. (omg right?) So when the cartel came after the brother-in-law who stole the drugs he said "Oh no, not me, the guy who OWNS the truck has them." SO, the cartel started kidnapping the truck owning brothers family and told him they would continue to do so until he gave them back. (sorry about all the brothers and screwy explanation but it's strange and extended)

The whole dang family is in protection now and the kidnapped men have called twice now to give the threats and ultimatums from the Cartel.

AND THIS IS NOT A BIG NEWS STORY HERE! For real, there was one blurb in the newspaper about the nephew being dragged into a van by masked men (witnessed by his family and co-workers right on the street) and that's it, it was printed 4 days ago and that's the end of it.

I heard that kidnappings happen a lot by the cartels here and on the Tx side of the border but I refused to admit that it can happen to innocent people.

Chino is all devastated and scared because they stole the nephew right from his Dads arms and now his Dad won't eat. And I'm a useless moron and don't know what to do for him so I just keep cooking and overfeeding him.

We don't think that we are in much danger ourselves, we're a tad off the family map as far as that side goes, Chino hasn't seen them in over 5 years. He used to live with them in Tx, he was raised by his brother with the nephew that was taken. When he came up to Michigan to live he didn't go home to visit and then after he was deported he couldn't, so he and I aren't a familiar presence and right now, luckily so. In any case we're still keeping things locked up here for the time being.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

******UPDATE: I've honestly learned a lot just from the women that have commented on this post and I wasn't expecting any more prego-surprises! I just want to say Thank You for those that have been so honest and have shared - I honest to goodness apreciate every last word! *******I always heard about morning sickness and cravings but there are other things pregnancy freaking DOES to you that nobody mentioned. Once shit started to hit the fan and I ASKED former pregnant ladies just what the HELL?? They fessed up to a lot of it, but I'm still surprised more don't talk about it. Well I'M gonna tell you, in case you don't know. People need to know this shit.

Sense of Smell: Sure, you hear that pregnant women have a "heightened sense of smell" but SHIT FIRE nobody mentioned it would be so extreme that I would smell things that NOBODY else can. For some reason, the first 4 months of pregnancy our Kitchen smelled to me like some foreign alien death. I would gag every damn time I walked in there, and sometimes puke! I could never pinpoint where exactly it was coming from and I cleaned it and searched like mad! Chino? He couldn't smell anything. NOTHING, and he thought I was bonkers!! It was not cool.

Even worse was that I could smell (and sometimes still can) the air that my husband breathes out. When we breathe out it's not just air but water and all sorts of impurities and shit our body feels like getting rid of. I don't know what in GAWDS NAME is wrong with that man, or what it is that he eats a lot of but honest to God, I could barely come near him, and I would gag if I had to kiss him more than a peck. For 4 months. There was no sleeping with my head on his shoulder or cuddling or making out - try having sex and not getting close to your mans face, or trying to explain that you really really really don't want to "do it" because his breath is going to kill you. It was terrible and he spent many lonely nights being all rejected and pitiful, no matter how much I explained it. There was no change in his breath, no halitosis or condition, my nose had just gone MAD. 6 months in and a couple times a week he still has queer rotten alien breath and I hate it. Sometimes I don't even know if it's just ME or if a bad smell is something the whole world can smell. Deodorant! WHO THE CRAP KNEW that my body would go CRACKERS and all out of balance or something and have a crazy creation to deodorant? When I use regular deodorant my skin has a nasty smelly chemical-y reaction to it the second it hits me and the smell is so bad I have to wash it all off. I have NO idea if it's just my spidey-sense of smell or if it's something others can smell too, but it's so bad it doesn't matter. I'll get sick to my stomach from the chemical stench if I don't wash it off. THANK GOD I tried 10 different deodorants and when I broke down and tried one of those gel deod's (that do nothing for sweat!) I discovered paradise. AND for what ever reason I don't sweat with the Gel kind anymore and, well, God bless GOD, I'm not a disgusting mess. None of this SHHIIIIIT is in Prego books! What the CRAP? I have more to share but this is enough for one day. (ok I've got stuff to do and I can't write anymore) :P But listen, PREGNANT LADIES (and men) and previous pregnant ladies !!!!!!! HEY !! Would you please SHARE this stuff?? I had trouble finding info on the breath thing even ONLINE and what the HELL is not online these days? OMG! Please for the love of pete and poor inexperienced prego girls - OPEN UP!! Bloggers love to air dirty laundry so don't wimp out on me now. I don't care if people think I'm goofballs I'd like for the next knocked up sap to have some warning. Ok. Thank You. xoxoxox's :P

Gringa Lindy

WELCOME

Picture it, Sicily 19.... well no. How about Michigan, where I was born, raised up a dorky, country chick and met my husband about 7 years ago. He was deported about a year and a half after we were married so I packed up our stuff, my dog, and moved on down here to Mexico to live a crazy Mexican life. We've got great taco's but also cockroaches the size of my fist, so... it sort of evens out. :D